


conducting it all while i sleep

by genderfluidmirage



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Camping, Healing, Other, bangalore week, bangaloreweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genderfluidmirage/pseuds/genderfluidmirage
Summary: “We are going camping,” they tell her, their rough scarred face sweetened by their smile. Anita opens and closes her mouth - she normally didn’t like surprises, but when Hound told her that, instead of resistance she just...felt some sort of relief. Yeah...yeah she could go with getting out of town for a minute..Anita needs some space to breathe and Bloodhound leads the way.
Relationships: Bangalore | Anita Williams/Bloodhound
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	conducting it all while i sleep

**Author's Note:**

> hello this is my first bangahound lol i hope yall like it 
> 
> for #bangaloreweek2020, day 2, healing

She hasn’t been herself lately, and they know it. So they do something about it. 

They are sweet, waking her up one early morning with a kiss on her forehead, as they lay a stack of clothes next to her in bed. “It’s cold out,” they murmur, lips brushing her skin as they slowly move back, now moving out of sight to the bathroom.

Anita blinks her eyes owlishly, feels her back ache as she sits up slowly. It’s early, she realizes, there’s only a slip of light shining in through the window. Why did they wake her up so early? Nevertheless, Anita follows the motions. 

She sits up, peels off her ribbed tank top in favor of the sports bra and shirt they’ve left on the bed for her; Anita then notices the bulky folded sweatshirt in the pile is theirs, not hers. It floods her chest with a warmth that’s been feeling rare these days.

“Whatchya get me up for,” Anita says eventually, voice rough from sleep. She can hear them, shuffling in the bathroom, no doubt taking their sweet time before responding. When they do answer, it is after they have exited the bathroom. She can see they’re bundled up in warm clothes: a denim jacket, over flannel, over a sweatshirt hoodie (she recognizes the flannel as her own). 

“We are going camping,” they tell her, their rough scarred face sweetened by their smile. Anita opens and closes her mouth - she normally didn’t like surprises, but when Hound told her that, instead of resistance she just...felt some sort of relief. Yeah...yeah she could go with getting out of town for a minute.

“Okay,” she says, and stands so she can pull on the thick socks and jeans they’d laid out for her. She catches them smiling again, their pale eyes lit with fond warmth… Yeah. Yeah, she thinks she’s down to steal away with them for a few days.

\--

It’s her pickup, but Hound is driving. They’d loaded the truck up before she’d even got her boots laced up, and the cabin was even warm already. They brought travel mugs to the front seat; coffee for Anita and herbal tea for themself. Anita can see Artur is nestled in the back in a nest-like twist of her favorite blanket.

“How long you been planning this?” Anita asks them, gaze following the line of their strong arms, up to their shoulders, too the strong jawline of their face. They glance at her through the side of their tinted glasses, offer another small smile. 

“Does it matter?”

As the chill sets in, and Anita twists around to pull a blanket from the back into her lap, she decides it doesn’t. It was a nice surprise. There was no need to pick it apart. Instead of answering them, she replies with another question: “Where are we heading, how far out?”

“Just a few hours,” they answer, “Those campgrounds up North.”

As she settles under the blanket, Anita yawns, letting her head come to a rest on the cool window. The glass is cold, but the rest of her is warm… She stifles a yawn to little avail and lets her eyes slip shut. It was still early anyway, and Bloodhound wasn’t the type to play music on long drives. They liked paying attention to scenery instead. 

She could rest her eyes a little longer, and they seem to encourage it, reaching across the center console to squeeze her knee fondly under the blanket. Their voice is the last thing Anita hears before she drifts back off into sleep. 

“I shall wake you when we arrive. Rest easy, beloved.”

\-- 

The unpacking is easy, courteously mindless having just awoken after a long drive. She feels in sync with them like this, stepping around each other to deposit items from the truck bed on to their chosen campgrounds. They get to work setting up the tent, while Anita calls out, “I’m gonna get firewood, ‘kay?”

“Take Artie, elskan,” they call back. Anita nods, turns to whistle, and like clockwork, Artie dives down from her high circling to land on Anita’s shoulder. She reaches up to stroke the birds beak, and Artur lets loose a jumble of sounds that Anita recognizes as happy ones – or so Bloodhound insists. Despite the amount of time she had spent with them and the bird, she never really seemed to pick up on Artur’s mannerisms the way they did. 

Though it is still cool, there’s something reinvigorating about it, walking through the forest and feeling the crunch of leaves and snaps of twigs under her boots. Artie seems to enjoy the open space as well, soaring through the air above her and occasionally grabbing a perch to observe.

Anita had originally envisioned this weekend as being spent in, sleeping in late, ordering take out… She wonders to herself what had motivated Bloodhound to plan this trip. It hasn’t seemed very spontaneous, given that they had packed the truck and dressed before even waking her - but they could also just be like that, sometimes. Anita had always considered herself an independent woman, but she didn’t hold a candle to Bloodhound. She remembered when she was younger how her mama used to make fun of an uncle, calling him a doomsday prepper, but in some ways Bloodhound felt like the real thing. Stocked pantry and freezer; candles, matches, battery powered lights packed away just in case - the list of preparation went on. But it was more than just being ready. 

It was being compassionate. Bloodhound’s primary love language came in the form of acts of service; they cooked for her when she was debating the cost of take out against the desire not to cook, they repaired her favorite boots when she complained about the worn down treads. They had shockingly good listening skills and solved problems that Bangalore hardly registered. But more than that, they understand how to love in fair measure. 

Because as nice as it was when they would do those little things, Anita values her independence. It’s not not a weakness, but that didn’t mean she didn’t see it as a strength. She had pride in her independent strength - and if there was one thing Bloodhound understood keenly, it was pride. The evidence was here and know, with Anita gathering firewood. 

They would easily do this for her if she asked, if she simply wanted to sit at camp and just relax. But she didn’t, and they knew that, and that’s why she was here picking up dry sticks and they were setting up camp. 

Artie caws overhead.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m almost done. Chill out, won’t you?”

She caws again, and Bangalore chuckles, turning back towards camp.

\--

Dinner leaves her feeling full and...spectacularly warm. 

They hunted together, at first, and Anita’s a good shot - but stealth isn’t really her style, she prefers going in hot and making it competition purely of marksmanship. Maybe back in her sprout days when she was young and determined to prove herself she was more flexible about strategy but - not so much anymore. 

Bloodhound though, they have never once lost their touch for hunting, and that skill easily yields prey from which they make warm stew for the both of them. Anita prefers to think of herself as someone above cheesiness, but at the same time...it was hard not to think of the dish as made with love. That’s what Bloodhound did, after all. They made things with love. 

Nothing in this moment feels better than that full feeling, the blanket wrapped around the toy of them, Bloodhound’s head on her shoulder… it’s not often she sees them without their glasses on, but here in the fire light, she can see their pale eyes. It never fails to stun her how uniquely gorgeous they are. She’s never met anyone like them.

“You sleepy?”

“No.”

“That’s what you’d say if you were sleepy.”

“It is also what I would say if I were not. It appears we are at an impasse.”

Anita chuckles, and stands, offering a hand which they gladly take and stand with her. In a moment’s rush of affection… Anita loops her arms around their neck, and kisses them softly. Sweetly, a warm press of the lips, and then a press of foreheads. With her arms steady around them, she begins to sway… just sighing happily, and letting her eyes slip shut. It’s just them and her, and her, and them. 

She feels a peace settle over her that has been absent for weeks. 

“How’d you know I needed this?” she murmurs, distinctly enjoying the warmth of the fire. 

“It is my job to know, beloved.” They kiss her nose, so light it almost tickles, and urge her to still, now tugging her to the tent. “I am not tired - but still, let us rest.”

It makes her chuckle, “Liar,” she says. 

But she follows anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, feel free to like&comment
> 
> check out more bangalore week content on the twitter @bangaloreweek :)


End file.
